Sunday, July 3, 2022

New Release Blitz: Ashes to Ashes by Rachel Ford

Title: Ashes to Ashes

Series: Aubrey Blake Thrillers, Book One

Author: Rachel Ford

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/28/2022

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 93800

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, murder mystery, crime, lesbian, private detective, cleric/priest, guns, violence, anger issues, Action/adventure, bartenders, pets, religion, revenge, slow burn

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Description

A private eye and a vigilante priest face off to bring down a corrupt band of evildoers—by the book, or off the books. Her way, or his.

Years ago, Aubrey Blake joined the police force to make a difference. She almost lost everything in the pursuit of justice. Now she’s about to do it again.

Disillusioned with her former career, she makes a living as a private detective. A living, but not a life.

Then the killings start. The police are on it. But Blake can’t let it be. She can’t walk away. She’s not wired that way.

Then again, neither are the killers…

Excerpt

Ashes to Ashes Rachel Ford © 2022 All Rights Reserved Chapter One The old man glanced at his watch. Thirteen minutes after nine. He was behind schedule. He should have been at the halfway mark already. He should have passed it thirteen minutes ago. He gritted his teeth and pressed onward, pumping his legs as fast as they’d go. Not so fast these days. People might say age was only a number, but those people didn’t understand numbers. Numbers weren’t just innocuous lines on a page or a reflection of self-image. Numbers made the difference between success and failure, on time or too late, life and death. One hundred and forty-five beats per minute. Eleven hundred feet per second. One round. One shot. One kill. If you dug deep enough, everything was a numbers game. And right now, he was losing. He’d covered just about two miles. That meant he still had over two miles left. And forty-seven minutes to do it in. Numbers, again. It all came down to numbers. Twenty years ago, those numbers wouldn’t have made a difference. But age understood the numbers game, even if people didn’t. Arthritic knees and old lungs and stiff hips understood the difference twenty years could make. He puffed as he walked, drawing in one short, quick breath after the next. He hit the two-mile mark about three minutes later. Two miles. Halfway. Forty-four minutes left. He hit the nine-thirty mark a little closer to schedule. He still had over a mile to go, but he’d been making up lost time. He was close now. Nine hours. Thirty minutes after the hour. There’d be meetings and doctor appointments and lawyer appointments and business openings happening all over town right now. But that wasn’t what those numbers meant to the old man. He was contemplating an entirely different set of figures. Eleven hundred feet per second. One round. Tyler Morehouse was already dead. If everything had gone according to plan, he would have been dead about five minutes earlier. One shot. One kill. And if it hadn’t? Well, the old man had bigger problems to worry about than his heart rate. And that was certainly higher than one hundred and forty-five beats per minute. A hundred and forty-five beats per minute was the maximum recommended heart rate for a guy his age, according to something he’d read online a long time ago. American Heart Association, or John Hopkins Medicine, maybe. He didn’t remember at the moment, but he remembered the formula: two hundred and twenty beats per minute, minus your age. One hundred and forty-five, in his case. Another set of critical numbers. He was feeling the impact of ignoring those numbers. His breathing had grown more laborious, and his lungs burned. He felt mild tightness in his chest. Six. That was what he would have rated himself on the pain scale his doctor liked to use: six out of ten. Which, he decided, pun not intended, left him a little breathing room. He still had four out of ten degrees of pain left before he was either immobile or dead. Four degrees and thirty minutes to go. He’d faced worse. He could tough that out. And he did. Half an hour and two minutes later, he made the rendezvous. The bench was occupied, as per the arrangement. He took a seat next to the other man and didn’t say anything. He just sat there puffing with exertion and slipped a smartphone out of his pocket. The other guy didn’t speak either. He took the phone and slid it into his own pocket. They sat there for three minutes, until five after ten. Then the other guy got up. The old man stayed seated, stayed puffing long breaths of air into old lungs that weren’t used to that kind of exercise. The other guy said, “It’s done.” The old man nodded, but he didn’t speak. Not because it was some predetermined code or anything like that. He was still wheezing for breath. “You okay?” He nodded. “You better go. You’re on a schedule.” “You sure you’re all right?” “Just not used to that kind of pace.” The other guy smiled, the kind of smile that writers would say “didn’t quite reach his eyes.” The old man hadn’t always understood that phrase, but once he’d lived long enough, he did. Age was more than just a number, after all. “Been a long time, hasn’t it?” He nodded and said again, “You better go.” And then the other guy did go. The old man sat on his bench alone, no longer counting the minutes as he collected his thoughts and caught his breath. Tyler Morehouse was dead. It was over.

Ashes to Ashes
Rachel Ford © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

The old man glanced at his watch. Thirteen minutes after nine. He was behind schedule. He should have been at the halfway mark already. He should have passed it thirteen minutes ago.

He gritted his teeth and pressed onward, pumping his legs as fast as they’d go. Not so fast these days. People might say age was only a number, but those people didn’t understand numbers. Numbers weren’t just innocuous lines on a page or a reflection of self-image. Numbers made the difference between success and failure, on time or too late, life and death.

One hundred and forty-five beats per minute.

Eleven hundred feet per second.

One round.

One shot.

One kill.

If you dug deep enough, everything was a numbers game. And right now, he was losing. He’d covered just about two miles. That meant he still had over two miles left. And forty-seven minutes to do it in.

Numbers, again. It all came down to numbers. Twenty years ago, those numbers wouldn’t have made a difference. But age understood the numbers game, even if people didn’t. Arthritic knees and old lungs and stiff hips understood the difference twenty years could make.

He puffed as he walked, drawing in one short, quick breath after the next. He hit the two-mile mark about three minutes later.

Two miles.

Halfway.

Forty-four minutes left.

He hit the nine-thirty mark a little closer to schedule. He still had over a mile to go, but he’d been making up lost time. He was close now.

Nine hours. Thirty minutes after the hour.

There’d be meetings and doctor appointments and lawyer appointments and business openings happening all over town right now. But that wasn’t what those numbers meant to the old man.

He was contemplating an entirely different set of figures.

Eleven hundred feet per second.

One round.

Tyler Morehouse was already dead. If everything had gone according to plan, he would have been dead about five minutes earlier.

One shot.

One kill.

And if it hadn’t? Well, the old man had bigger problems to worry about than his heart rate. And that was certainly higher than one hundred and forty-five beats per minute.

A hundred and forty-five beats per minute was the maximum recommended heart rate for a guy his age, according to something he’d read online a long time ago. American Heart Association, or John Hopkins Medicine, maybe. He didn’t remember at the moment, but he remembered the formula: two hundred and twenty beats per minute, minus your age.

One hundred and forty-five, in his case. Another set of critical numbers. He was feeling the impact of ignoring those numbers.

His breathing had grown more laborious, and his lungs burned. He felt mild tightness in his chest.

Six.

That was what he would have rated himself on the pain scale his doctor liked to use: six out of ten. Which, he decided, pun not intended, left him a little breathing room. He still had four out of ten degrees of pain left before he was either immobile or dead.

Four degrees and thirty minutes to go. He’d faced worse. He could tough that out.

And he did. Half an hour and two minutes later, he made the rendezvous. The bench was occupied, as per the arrangement. He took a seat next to the other man and didn’t say anything. He just sat there puffing with exertion and slipped a smartphone out of his pocket.

The other guy didn’t speak either. He took the phone and slid it into his own pocket. They sat there for three minutes, until five after ten.

Then the other guy got up. The old man stayed seated, stayed puffing long breaths of air into old lungs that weren’t used to that kind of exercise.

The other guy said, “It’s done.”

The old man nodded, but he didn’t speak. Not because it was some predetermined code or anything like that. He was still wheezing for breath.

“You okay?”

He nodded. “You better go. You’re on a schedule.”

“You sure you’re all right?”

“Just not used to that kind of pace.”

The other guy smiled, the kind of smile that writers would say “didn’t quite reach his eyes.” The old man hadn’t always understood that phrase, but once he’d lived long enough, he did. Age was more than just a number, after all. “Been a long time, hasn’t it?”

He nodded and said again, “You better go.”

And then the other guy did go. The old man sat on his bench alone, no longer counting the minutes as he collected his thoughts and caught his breath.

Tyler Morehouse was dead. It was over.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Award-winning author Rachel Ford is a software engineer by day, and a writer most of the rest of the time. She is a Trekkie, a video gamer, and a dog parent, owned by a Great Pyrenees named Elim Garak and a mutt of many kinds named Fox (for the inspired reason that he looks like a fox).

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Saturday, July 2, 2022

The Don’s Dilemma Blitz

The Don’s Dilemma
Caprice Langden
(The Calegaris, #5)
Publication date: June 7th 2022
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

As head of one of the East Coast’s most profitable crime families, I keep my real family close…and my enemies even closer.
I had plans for the future. Once my rise was complete, no one I loved would ever have to worry about anything. Ever.

Someone else had other ideas. Someone was trying to bring down my organization from the inside. I could handle them. That’s the world I live in, the world I command. But then they crossed a line. It’s one thing to mess with my business; it’s a different matter entirely to threaten my family.

I launched a preemptive strike with one thing in mind – I needed information I could use against the man who’d recently become the biggest thorn in my side. Under the guise of reconciliation, I welcomed his olive branch, but I couldn’t trust him….or, as it turned out, anyone else.

My plan backfired. Suzanne’s sweetness was more than I could resist. One look into her eyes, and I condemned myself for the crimes I was about to commit. I couldn’t bring an innocent woman into the carnage of those who wronged the name “Calegari.”

My name is Gabriel Calegari. I am a mafia don, a son, a brother… and a lover. I can have no weakness – including her. I will stop at nothing to protect my family from those who are out to destroy me – no matter how much it costs me.

Dive into the dengerous desires of the Calegari world with the rest of the series:
The Virgin Clause
The Virgin Temptation
Princess of Pride
Princess of Passion

Goodreads / Amazon


Author Bio:

Caprice Langden is a pen name for romance author Debra J. Falasco. Edgier, darker and steamier, Caprice Langden romances feature alpha males and the good girls who bring them to their knees. She lives in a historic home in Colorado with her husband, son and two kitties.

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Unexpected Blitz

Unexpected
Felice Stevens
Publication date: June 23rd 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance, Sports

Party planner Colin Brightman doesn’t drink or dance, preferring to go to bed early with his spreadsheets and lists. All he wants is to forget the singles weekend his friends sent him on, but he’s stuck with a suitcase filled with condoms and skimpy Speedos that don’t belong to him.

He doesn’t expect his luggage thief to be ex-baseball superstar Walker “Walk-Off” Scanlon. Or that Walker has hired his firm to put on a charity event at his bar. Colin can’t deny the mixed emotions the annoyingly flirty man stirs in him, but he refuses to fall for someone who racks up lovers as easily as he once hit home runs.
No matter how much he might want to.

Walker Scanlon likes his men easygoing with no complications. He’s had enough of those in his life. So why is he drawn to tense and straitlaced Colin and his frosty scowl?When even his corny one-liners and jokes don’t get him a smile? Because the sparks between them are undeniable. And that unexpected kiss? Amazin’.

Now if only Colin would stop running away.

When Colin and Walker come face to face with past hurts and betrayals, they’ll need to trust themselves and each other to learn that heartbreak and love don’t go hand in hand. It’s the bottom of the ninth and if they swing for the stars, they just might hit the grand slam of a lifetime.

Unexpected is a low-angst, high-heat romance between a corny joke-telling ex-baseball player who doesn’t believe in striking out on or off the field and a divorced, tea-drinking homebody who isn’t willing to get played…again.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Damn, Colin Brightman was cute when flustered. Walker wasn’t sure what the hell he was doing flirting with him. It wasn’t smart to screw around with people who worked for you, but there was a haunted look in the man’s eyes that those long, dark lashes couldn’t hide. He sensed Colin kept quite a bit about himself secret, and Walker had always been a sucker for a good mystery.

“I’m surprised you noticed me,” Colin said, “since you seemed to be so into your dance partners.” As if realizing that his statement revealed his awareness of Walker, Colin fumbled a bit. “I mean, when I saw you on the dance floor, you were always surrounded.”

Too late, Colin Brightman. So you’re not made of stone. Good to know.

“Well, I saw you. Especially that last night. You were at a table, drinking something with an umbrella.”

“Like I said, I don’t drink much.” He picked up his more than half-full drink as if to prove his point. “See?”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Stock up on my little umbrellas.” He winked, and a flush crept up Colin’s neck to his face.

Aren’t you adorable? Are you pink all over?


Author Bio:

Felice Stevens has always been a romantic at heart. She believes that while life is tough, there is always a happy ending around the corner. Her characters have to work for it, because just like life in NYC, nothing comes easy and that includes love.

Felice is the 2020 Lambda Literary Award winning author in best Gay Romance. She lives in New York City and has way too much black in her wardrobe. If she's not writing, you'll probably find her watching reality TV or procrastinating on FB in her reader group, Felice's Breakfast Club.

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Smartphones Don't Give Hugs Virtual Book Tour



A Guide Out of Loneliness

 

Nonfiction

Date Published: 04-22-2022

 

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Do you have a thousand Facebook friends and yet you feel alone?

In a world saturated by instant gratification, we have forgotten how to foster lasting human connections. Although technology allows us to keep in touch with people who live on the other side of the world, loneliness is at an all-time high. Why is that? Well, for one thing, smartphones do not give hugs.

Dr. H. David Burstein takes an in-depth look at loneliness, its modern causes, and how it may be alleviated. He has found that loneliness is inextricably woven into the fabric of our human condition. Our need for connection highlights the biological fact that we are, first and foremost, social creatures. Feelings of loneliness act as a light on an emotional fuel gauge, alerting us to our need for accessing personal or social energy.

This thorough investigation into our yearning for social connection offers many solutions that will empower us to show up more powerfully in order to fulfill this basic human need. And these solutions begin with an introspective excavation of ourselves, our emotions, and our search for purpose and meaning.

Compelling, insightful, and thought-provoking, this is a go-to guide for a more fulfilled life.



Purchase Link

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Catching Quinn Blitz

Catching Quinn
Jennifer Bonds
(Waverly Wildcats, #2)
Publication date: June 28th 2022
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports

What’s a girl have to do to lose her virginity around here?

When I decided to ditch my V-card, I figured Greek Row was a sure thing.

I didn’t count on Cooper-the-cockblocking-jockhole-DeLaurentis or his misguided sense of bro code putting an embarrassing end to my hookup. After all, Waverly’s star wide receiver is the most notorious player on campus.

He’s arrogant. Infuriating. Sexy as hell.

Just ask him.

Worse? He’s made it his personal mission to scare off every guy who shows an interest in me. But I’m not about to be outwitted by a hypocritical baller with more ego than sense. I may be a hot mess, but I’m no pushover.

Two can play this game, and I’m playing to win.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

EXCERPT:

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Quinn demands, pulling herself up to her full height. Maybe that shit works on her brother, but I spent the afternoon staring down guys three times her size. “Are you drunk?”

“No.” I point to her half-empty cup. “But if you finish that drink, you will be.”

Her brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong with my drink?”

Is she for real?

“Other than the fact that it’s got five kinds of liquor in it?”

“Five? Really?” She lifts the cup up and stares at it like she’s seeing it for the first time. “Huh. Who’d have guessed?”

“Why do you think it’s called Adiós, Motherfucker? It’s meant to get you shitfaced.” She giggles, probably at the name, and I scrub a hand over my face. “If you don’t know what’s in it, why are you drinking it?”

She cocks a hip. “Mike bought it for me.”

Of course he did. “The asshole was probably trying to get you drunk and take advantage of you.”

“Maybe I was trying to get him drunk and take advantage of him,” she says, poking me in the chest. Heat radiates from the spot where her finger landed, which is ridiculous because it wasn’t even skin-to-skin contact. Probably just leftover energy from the game. She pokes me again. “Did you ever think of that?”

“No.” It’s bullshit, but I’m not trying to picture Quinn seducing some random creeper at a bar. “It did, however, occur to me he might’ve slipped something in your drink.”

Quinn rolls those big green eyes. “I’m a virgin, not a moron. I took the drink directly from the bartender.”

Thank Christ.

Relief surges through my veins. How the fuck does Noah deal with having his little sister on campus? On Greek Row?

For the first time in my life, I’m glad to be an only child. If I saw some dude playing grab-ass with my sister, I’d break his fucking hands.

Quinn’s not your sister, so what do you care?

I don’t.

Okay, fine. I care. But only because I’m not a trash human being.

“I can’t believe you chased Mike off.” Quinn’s bottom lip juts out, forming a sexy little pout. “It was rude.”

“Serves the fucker right.” I plant my hands on my hips. If she thinks she can guilt me over Doctor Octopus, she’s got another thing coming. “Thirty seconds ago, he was dry humping you like a dog in heat.”

“Eww.” She squeals, doing that cute nose scrunching thing again. “Gross.”

I flash her a wicked grin. “Tell me about it.”

“Did you just—” She tilts her head and looks up at me from under her lashes. “Did you just call me gross?

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing gross about you.” That’s half the problem. If she’s really going through with this whole losing her virginity to a stranger thing, she’ll have no trouble finding dudes to volunteer as tribute. “From the looks of it, I arrived just in time.”

“If by just in time, you mean just in time to cockblock me again, then yes.” She lifts the blue drink to her lips and takes a hearty gulp. “You can move along now.” She makes a shooing motion with her other hand. “Go wreck some other virgin’s night.”

“Are you sure I didn’t save your night?” I cross my arms over my chest, and damn if her attention doesn’t lock on my biceps. Not gonna lie, I’m flattered. I figured her type was more studious. “That guy probably doesn’t even know what a G-spot is, let alone how to find it.”

Her gaze shifts to my face, a challenge burning in her eyes. “I suppose you think you could do better?”


Author Bio:

Jennifer Bonds is the USA Today bestselling author of sizzling contemporary romance with sassy heroines, sexy alphas, and a whole lot of mischief. She’s a sucker for enemies-to-lovers stories, laugh-out-loud banter, and over-the-top grand gestures. Jennifer lives in Pennsylvania, where her overactive imagination and weakness for reality TV keep life interesting. She's lucky enough to live with her own real-life hero, two adorable (and sometimes crazy) children, and one rambunctious K9. Loves Buffy, Mexican food, a solid Netflix binge, the Winchester brothers, cupcakes, and all things zombie. Sings off-key.

To connect with Jen—and get a FREE book—visit www.jenniferbonds.com!

You can also find her on Facebook and Instagram @jbondswrites.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Amazon


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Audio Tour for We Choose You by Katy Manz

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Audio Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway:
We Choose You
By Katy Manz

We Choose You Audio Cover

Choice Versus Fate, Book 1

James and Aidan didn’t need fate. They had each other.

Alpha James and Beta Aiden love each other and don’t care what fate has to say about that. Mating doesn’t need to be based on pheromones and scents. And kids? There were many ways to build a family.

When fate comes knocking years later, James does what any wolf in his situation would—he runs away. He has a mate he loves more than anything, and they’re just about to get everything they want: a family. He can’t risk losing everything because Fate decided to be a butt.

Omega Riley scented his fated mate once months earlier, and the wolf ran away. He is coming to terms with his singledom. Everything is going as well as it can, that is, until his fated mate’s children walk into his classroom.

We Choose You is book one in the sweet with knotty heat MM shifter mpreg romance series: Choice Vs. Fate. It features an alpha wolf shifter who mated his beta best friend, the omega sent by fate, true love, twins who will steal your heart, adorable babies, and a guaranteed happy ever after.

Audio Link (US)

Audio Link (UK)

Universal Link

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Excerpt:

Only I could end up in the ER as an adult for getting a building block stuck in my nose. It should be one of the dozen or so kids under the age of five who I worked with here right now waiting for the on-call doctor to help free the annoying toy. But no, it was me, the grown-up charged with keeping them from doing it.

I was the grown man who got such a thing lodged in his breathing hole. I tripped over Eddie’s missing shoe while Andy was holding up a building block to show me it was his favorite color. The fates decided I had to be laughed at more in life. The kids all laughed, at least, except poor Andy who cried thinking he hurt me.

Luckily, it was a quick fix, more embarrassing than anything. Now, I needed to meet my friend Leslie in the hospital cafeteria, and we could pretend this day never happened.

“Hey, blockhead,” Leslie called out from across the cafeteria, making me vow to tell anyone who would listen about when she threw up after her first time watching a five-year-old eat his own booger. Note to self: get more embarrassing stories about my best friend, pronto.

“Seriously? Can we pretend today never happened and we came here to ogle hotties in lab coats and scrubs?” I asked as a nurse strutted past us and put a bit more swagger into his walk. Yum.

“Nope. But I will let it go for now. Was the doctor cute at least?”

“There’s my bestie. Always about trying to get some action! And to answer your question, he was all right. But definitely an omega, and so not my type.”

Her eyes widened, and a slow smirk grew. “Omega? Oh, mama likes them smart and steamy. Show me.”

I laughed at Leslie. “Sorry, hun. From the ring on the finger, the bump of his belly, and mark on the neck, that omega was spoken for and very happily so.”

“Figures. Oh well. One day I will meet the omega of my dreams. Maybe they’re too busy creating the next medical breakthrough. Or discovering life on Mars.”

All I could do was shake my head. Yes, one day it will happen but for now, I need food. “Did you want to grab something to eat?” I motioned toward the prepackaged sandwiches. “Or should we go grab something from the café, perhaps?”

“Um, yeah. Let’s go with the café. I would die for one of those delicious flatbreads they had the other day.”

Leslie and I grabbed our stuff and started toward the door. As we reached the exit, we saw two alphas standing near the doors, and my world stopped.

Growing up, we were told of the moment your soul recognized its fated. And everything I was warned about happened. The instant connection pulling me to them and the heat of recognizing only that person could satisfy me.

What wasn’t covered was what to do when the fated got a look on their face like the worse news was delivered to them and took off running in the other direction.


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To celebrate Katy's debut audio release, we are giving away an Audio Code (US) for We Choose You (or an e-copy)!

Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for your chance to win!

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About the Author:

Katy Manz has always dreamed of being a romance writer. She wanted to bring the stories created in her mind to a world of readers that would fall in love with her characters as much as she has. Keep a lookout for more books in this series and future series to come.

Connect with Katy:
Linktree
Website: http://www.katwritesthebooks.com
Amazon: http://www.Amazon.com/author/katymanz
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22149586.Katy_Manz
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/katy-manz
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KatyManzWrites/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/katymanzwrites/
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/katyManzwrites
TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@katymanz


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Release Blitz for The Laughbox by Julia Kent

 OUT NOW

The Laughbox by Julia Kent


Release date:  June 21, 2022

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance

Cover Designer:  Angela Jenks

Tropes/Themes:  Billionaires, Small Towns, Rock Stars, Office Romance, Secret Bosses, Second Chances, First Crushes, Enemies-To-Lovers, Friends-To-Lovers



The Laughbox
contains SIX full-length novels so you can start all of New York Times bestselling romantic comedy author Julia Kent’s series, plus get an ALL NEW NOVELLA you can’t find anywhere else. 


Get a taste of billionaires, small towns, rock stars, office romance, secret bosses, second chances, first crushes, enemies-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, and so much more.


Each series is wildly different from the others, with varying heat levels, different hijinks, but always, always - a heartwarming world you want to live in, with heroes who make you swoon and heroines who make you laugh - and cheer on in their quests for happily-ever-after endings.


This boxed set includes:


Shopping for a Billionaire (a New York Times bestseller)

Fluffy (a USA Today bestseller)

Love You Wrong

Random Acts of Crazy (a New York Times bestseller) 

In Your Dreams 

Maliciously Obedient (a USA Today bestseller)


and an ALL NEW novella, Shopping for a Billionaire’s Anniversary, featuring Declan and Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, as they celebrate their anniversary with affection, heat, and a hilarious set of awkward mishaps that still manage to be conquered by love.


Sink into seven fun stories that leave you with all the feels, loads of laughs, and strange looks from people around you as you read, giggle, and fall in love.


Note: each of these are series starters. Some are standalones (Fluffy), others end with the main characters together but with more books in the series as I follow their relationship (Shopping for a Billionaire, Random Acts of Crazy), others are prequels (Love You Wrong, In Your Dreams), while Maliciously Obedient has a cliffhanger. Full, up-front transparency for readers.


Buy Links:  


Amazon US:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B2ZFL3BT 


Amazon UK:  https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0B2ZFL3BT/ 


Amazon AU:  https://www.amazon.com.au/Laughbox-Julia-Kent-ebook/dp/B0B2ZFL3BT/ 


Amazon CA:  https://www.amazon.ca/Laughbox-Julia-Kent-ebook/dp/B0B2ZFL3BT/ 


Apple Books:  https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-laughbox/id6442916942 


Kobo:  https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-laughbox 


Nook:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-laughbox-julia-kent/1141587903?ean=2940186582540 


Google Play:  https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Julia_Kent_The_Laughbox?id=h4pyEAAAQBAJ&hl=en 


Website:  https://jkentauthor.com/books/book-bundles/ 


BookBub:  https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-laughbox-by-julia-kent 


Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61227788-the-laughbox 





Author Bio:


New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 21 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French, German, and Italian, with more titles releasing in the future.


From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire she met in a romantic comedy).


She lives in New England with her husband and three children where she is the only person in the household with the gene required to change empty toilet paper rolls.


She loves to hear from her readers by email at julia@jkentauthor.com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, on Facebook at @jkentauthor, and on Instagram @jkentauthor. Visit her at http://jkentauthor.com 


Social Media Links:


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Newsletter:  http://bit.ly/2PIBi9n

Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/jkentauthor/

BookBub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/julia-kent

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3238619.Julia_Kent

Amazon Author Page:  https://www.amazon.com/Julia-Kent/e/B00A99V268/



Excerpt from all-new Shopping for a Billionaire novella, SHOPPING FOR A BILLIONAIRE’S ANNIVERSARY


Declan


Here." My executive assistant, Dave, shoves a perfectly wrapped present at me, with a card and a small envelope. We’re in my office, the sun shining on this beautiful spring day, and I am finishing up work before taking a vacation.

Yes–vacation. It’s for one night, but it counts.

"What's this?"

"Your anniversary gift for Shannon."

The note card is blank.

He notices me noticing this and his face sours, the corners of his mouth dropping in scorn, pulling his beard down so he looks like an angry leprechaun.

"I draw the line at writing sweet nothings to your wife and signing your name, even if my rendition of your signature is far superior to your own,” he says dryly, reaching down to square a pile of papers on my desk.

"My signature is my signature. No one can best it, Dave."

He just snorts.

I shake the box lightly. "What's in here?"

"Leather."

"Leather?"

"Ninth-year anniversary gift. Leather is flexible and represents durability."

“I am well aware of what leather represents. What does it have to do with my marriage?”

He snorts again.

I frown and ask, "Just leather? What is it, a wallet?"

"No! Of course not. The traditional gemstone for ninth anniversaries is lapis. I had a jewelry artist set chunks of lapis in gold, then stitch them onto a leather cuff bracelet." Dave holds his phone up to me, showing a picture of the piece.

"That's incredible."

A short sigh of contentment, then a clipped, "You're welcome" is how Dave takes a compliment. He doesn’t feed off praise.

He feeds off his own hypercompetence. If efficiency were a drug, Dave would be Al Pacino on Scarface, covered in the fine white powder of his own brutal excellence.

"The lighthouse is reserved for the evening?" I inquire, reaching for my briefcase.

"Yes. Your suit's in the car already." Dave eyes me. "Where will you change?"

I'm wearing jeans, hiking boots, and a Lacoste polo shirt, all Shannon’s favorites. The dark green shirt is a nod to my eyes, which she has spent almost a decade raving about.




Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.


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